


Floating In A Blue Lagoon

by make_easter_gay_again



Category: Spring Awakening - Sheik/Sater
Genre: Almost Kiss, Deaf Otto, M/M, Pining, also it references dancing which youd get if you know the little mermaid musical, alternative titles include kiss the sailor boy, and kiss the piano man, basically im too lazy to write a whole au, mute georg, so heres a scene, so much pining, wow its a little mermaid au, wow its kiss the girl
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-09
Updated: 2018-08-09
Packaged: 2019-06-24 03:44:07
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,905
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15621807
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/make_easter_gay_again/pseuds/make_easter_gay_again
Summary: But now, as the currents of the water swayed their boat, Otto wasn’t imagining a bashful little press of their lips. He was imagining holding Georg’s face as he kissed him; being able to close his eyes and focus on nothing else.Another form of communication, he supposed.





	Floating In A Blue Lagoon

Usually, Otto liked rowing.

The steady push and pull of the oars along with how the water resisted the movement soothed him. It wasn’t like a sailboat, where he would run around, tying and untying ropes and waiting for the wind to give him his next instruction. There was no uncertainty to a rowboat. There was no aspect of it that he couldn’t control. Sailing required a lot of thought, making every time the boat was released into the water a different experience. He adored it partly for that reason: the thrill. But if he needed to be alone with the ocean, even just a small part of it, sailing would be too quick. Too fast-paced. Too unpredictable. He didn’t need to pay attention to the routine back and forth of oars. He could think about other things.

Rowing was also something he could do completely alone. Never once did he need to have a crew for a measly rowboat. A crew, like on a real ship, who couldn’t understand his “fancy hand talk”. A crew that expected him to read their lips and understand every word through both heavy accents and pipes still hanging from their mouths. If there was anyone else with him on a rowboat, they would be forced into silence. After all, he couldn’t reply to anything they were saying if he was busy moving the boat. And he couldn’t be expected to read their lips if he zoned out well enough.

But now, as he pushed off the dock and began the cycle of rowing, he realized that having no way to communicate to the boy sitting opposite him might have been a bad idea. He wanted to have another conversation. Every other time they had spoken, although the farthest from the literal definition of the word possible, he felt like they held some sort of secret in their strange language no one else understood. This feeling had a strange effect on him, making him want to talk more and more.

Georg stared out at the sunset over the water, his chin resting on his hand, the light making his eyes unseeable behind the reflection on his glasses. Otto wanted desperately to get his attention and say “Isn’t it beautiful?”, but until they had fully pulled away from the shore and into the open water, he had to keep the boat moving somehow. He found himself confined to silence.

The grass surrounding the naturally separated piece of the ocean they had to themselves grew wider spread, leaving more and more distance to the mainland. Otto looked out over the orange and pink stained waves, letting the movement of the oars slow. His eyes drifted back to Georg eventually, only to find their gazes met instantly. Georg raised his eyebrows, shaping his words into a question. “Stop?”

Otto nodded, resting the oars so that they wouldn’t fall into the water. Immediately, his hands formed the words they had wanted to from the beginning. “Isn’t it beautiful?”

“Very. Breathtaking, even.”

He kept speaking, though he had nothing in mind to say. The sentences flowed out of him in a way they never could before, when each word had to be slowly given or sometimes even individually spelled out. “The sunset on the sea is one of my favorite views, even though I have spent so many evenings watching it. The sky is so carefree and clever that it can paint a new image each night for your entire life. I don’t believe I will ever tire of seeing it.”

Georg’s hands moved lazily in response, as if he too didn’t quite know what he would say until he said it. “Yes, I’m sure I would not mind an excuse to see this more often. It’s quite possibly the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”

“You act as if this sight is new to you.”

“I suppose I’m not used to seeing it from this angle.”

Otto frowned and repeated the movement, wondering if Georg had made a mistake, or if he had simply seen it wrong. “Angle?”

Georg’s eyes widened, and his hands moved quickly as he amended his error. “I don’t have a view of it such as this. I’ve never seen it this... clear on the horizon. Thank you for taking me to see it.”

“You’re welcome.”

They sat in silence, and when Georg shifted his gaze back to the sky, Otto couldn’t do the same. If looking at the sunset made Georg smile like that, Otto would take out that silly little rowboat every night to see it. It stirred up an emotion he couldn’t put into words.

Before he could think twice, he reached out and took Georg’s hand. He watched as their fingers twisted themselves together, then looked up to see if the smile still shone. The eye contact made his face burn in an instant. He signed “Sorry” over and over again, straightening his back out of pure panic, but whatever force made him reach forward in the first place wasn’t letting him let go.

Georg opened his other palm and touched his thumb to his chest twice, a soft smile crossing his face. Otto thought he even spotted a hint of pink along his cheekbones. “It’s fine.”

He didn’t know which smile he liked better.

He apologized one last time for good measure, making the color of Georg’s face more pigmented. Then, Otto accepted the fact that _he was holding Georg’s hand._

Sure, there had been those moments while they were dancing the night before, in between all of the stupid giggling and stepping on toes, where he was certain that the world had fallen silent. Where he found himself holding Georg closer than he had been before. Where all he could feel was his hold on Georg’s waist and their interlocked hands. When their eye contact held, and all Otto wanted to do was kiss him. Just a quick peck to show those weird feelings he had no idea how to express. But now, as the currents of the water swayed their boat, Otto wasn’t imagining a bashful little press of their lips. He was imagining holding Georg’s face as he kissed him; being able to close his eyes and focus on nothing else.

Another form of communication, he supposed.

Now he thought about it, letting his imagination wander like that might have been a mistake. He found he couldn’t tear his eyes from Georg’s lips. His smile faded into a look of contentment, and he watched the sun’s final moments on the horizon, completely unaware of Otto’s stare. Otto’s blush had died down, but his heart still raced. He could have sworn his hands were shaking, especially the one that wasn’t being held.

As the light started dropping even faster, he knew he had missed any remote chance he had. Once the sun was gone, there would be no reason for them to stay out any longer. He disconnected their hands and leaned forward to retrieve the handles of the oars. Georg, startled by the sudden movement, snapped his head to look at Otto, leaving their faces inches apart. They stayed like that for a moment, Otto utterly petrified, all of his instincts yelling at him to just close the distance.

He pulled away quickly, yanking the oars with him, the boat awkwardly jerking into motion. Georg adjusted his glasses and folded his hands in his lap, angling his head away from where that incident had taken place. Otto dropped his eyes to the water again. If he were to look at Georg’s face, he’d only want to be close to him again. And if he was, he didn’t know how he would keep himself from making that move. The friendship-ending second of pure bliss that he knew he couldn’t risk.

At this point, he zoned out so completely he couldn’t see Georg attempting to get his attention. He didn’t return to reality until he felt a brisk tap on his knee. “Do we have to return just yet?”

Otto fumbled with getting the oars to balance so that he could respond. “If it gets too-” His sentence halted as he grabbed a falling handle before it could slide out of his reach. “If it gets too dark, it might be difficult to get back.” When Georg nodded solemnly and moved to look away again, Otto hurried to continue speaking. “But I suppose a few more minutes couldn’t be too disastrous. I know this place very well. I’m sure I’ll have no trouble getting us to shore.”

“I don’t mean to be an inconvenience. It’s just so peaceful that I feel I could sit here forever.”

“I have done the same thing countless times. You’re no inconvenience.”

“You know, as the sky grows darker, it will be more difficult not only to return to shore, but also speak to one another.”

“Yes, I-”

Georg slid his hand over Otto’s while it moved in the air from “yes” to wherever his thought would go. He guided Otto’s hand down slowly to where they had been before. Then he smiled, and Otto thought he might combust from how much warmth it carried. If the night had been just a little brighter, they would have been able to see just how scarlet both of their faces were in that moment.

Otto thought maybe he was okay with not kissing Georg. Right now, just holding his hand was enough. Holding his hand, and looking into his eyes, and watching him move closer. No, surely he was just shifting his position. Shifting his position _and_ _getting closer_. So Otto inched forward too, probably being less inconspicuous than he would have liked, hoping to get some sort of clue as to if this was right. Georg squeezed his hand as if on cue to remove Otto’s worries for just a moment. It would only take a split second for him to lean in and capture Georg’s lips in his. His head filled to the brim with uncertainties every time he thought he could scrape together the courage. What if it wasn’t what Georg wanted?

But god, if it wasn’t what Otto wanted. It was _all_ that Otto wanted.

In the time he spent keeping himself from moving in any direction, Georg had been leaning forward millimeter by millimeter. When Otto finally realized this, he somehow managed to move even less, staring alertly into his eyes with no idea what to do.

He only felt his hand rise to touch his fingertips to Georg’s cheek. He certainly hadn’t told it to do that. At least, he didn’t think he did. But Georg didn’t draw back, so it was right in some way. Maybe he _could_ do this.

When he scooted to the very edge of his seat and fluttered his eyes shut, he knew he had no control over his body anymore. He wondered if Georg could feel his hands trembling. He wondered if Georg could hear his heart beating out of his chest. He wondered if Georg would be able to feel how badly his blush overtook his face.

Their noses brushed together awkwardly, but not enough to make either of them disconnect from the moment.

He held his breath, and…

With a sudden and unexpected jolt from somewhere underneath them, the small boat capsized. Before their lips could meet, they were thrown from their seats into the water.  

 


End file.
